


Something About Wales

by frankiesin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Hope Lupin, Found Families, Gay Remus Lupin, Low Key (High Key) Fuck Dumbledore, M/M, Mutual Pining, Raising Harry Potter, Sirius has PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-10-13 13:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankiesin/pseuds/frankiesin
Summary: Sirius: hold the baby I'm gonna go kill one of our friendsRemus: what.AKA: Sirius hands Harry over to Remus before going off to enact revenge, no one is telling Remus anything, Hope Howell Lupin could give McGonagall a run for her money in terms of badassery, and there's a lot of pining and drama.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I wanna write a raising Harry fic!  
> Me: how the FUCK do I summarise this.
> 
> Yes hello it is the year of our lord 2019 and I'm writing Harry Potter fanfiction. Live your best life. My best life involves angst, drama, and gay repression in the form of a werewolf and a dumb dramatic bitch. (I love Sirius. I relate HEAVY to Sirius. I am also a dumb dramatic bitch.)
> 
> Here we Mc-Fuckin-Go.

Remus went back to his London flat on Halloween night. The war was still going on, with no signs of stopping, and he was tired. He was always tired. He couldn’t think of a time in his life where he’d felt well-rested, not since he’d been five years old and he’d been turned. Things had gotten worse after he’d joined the Order, but he had no intent of leaving now. He couldn’t turn his back on the very people who had made his life worth something. He couldn’t turn his back on his extended family. 

 

So Remus fought, and pretended to be like the other werewolves and he came home tired every night. This night was supposed to be no different than the others. 

 

His flat was bare. There wasn’t anything on the walls, and there were only a few books leaned against the shelves. The couch had no cushions, and the only things in the pantry were a half a bag of rice and a few canned vegetables. It was a sad, barely lived in little one bedroom, but Remus had no intentions of changing it. Not while there was a war outside and he was spending more time away from his flat than in it. 

 

He dropped his coat down on the couch, toed his boots off and let them fall where they fell, and made his way to the bedroom. He was too tired to scrape together a dinner. There was food if he wanted it, leftovers from the last time he’d had the energy to do more than get take out, but Remus couldn’t be arsed to grab it. 

 

He was too tired. He was always too tired. 

 

Remus slipped off his socks and fell into bed. He switched the lamp off with his wand and placed it under his pillow before turning onto his back and closing his eyes. He never slept well, but he knew better than to keep himself awake. Laying alone in the dark was better than sitting awake in his living room and waiting for exhaustion to win him over. Exhaustion never won. Remus could be inches from passing out and still not pass out. His body was wired, always wired and ready to fight back. 

 

He squeezed his eyes shut. He, James, Sirius, Peter, and Lily had been fighting for nearly four years. They’d been fighting before then, in different ways, and at one point Sirius had joked about how they were all just child soldiers in their parents’ war. Remus, alone in his bed on Halloween, couldn’t help but agree. 

 

Voldemort was dangerous, of course, but Remus was tired of fighting. He was tired of being thrown around and used as an example and a pawn and an attack dog. He was a werewolf before he was a human in the eyes of both sides, and he  _ hated it _ . He’d spent his whole life trying to be more than the beast inside him, and for what?

 

Remus rubbed his face and willed his mind to shut the fuck up for once. He just wanted to sleep. He closed his eyes again, and thought about nothing but the sounds of London outside his window. 

 

He was startled awake and had his hand on his wand before he’d fully registered that something was off. Remus shifted his grip and slowly got out of bed. He couldn’t hear anyone, but the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and he  _ knew _ something was awry. He didn’t know what, but he was worried enough to go investigate. 

 

He pushed his bedroom door open. No one was in the living area. The lamp was still on, casting shadows across the kitchen. 

 

Remus walked across the room, to the front door. He was still holding his wand. If it was one of his Muggle neighbours, he hoped that they wouldn’t notice it. Or that they’d assume it was a kitchen knife and that he was overly paranoid from living alone. 

 

He opened the door an inch, and then a few more when he saw who it was. Remus frowned, not letting go of his wand. “Sirius?”

 

“You need to take Harry,” Sirius said. He and Harry--James’ and Lily’s Harry--were wet, as though they’d walked from Godric’s Hollow all the way into London. Sirius’ grey eyes were hollow, ghosted over with fear and rage and other emotions Remus didn’t have the energy to put a name to. 

 

“What happened?” Remus said. He didn’t open the door further. He was awake enough to be wary, not awake enough to be worried for Harry and Sirius’ immediate safety. 

 

“James… and, and Lily--” Sirius cut himself off, shaking his head and letting droplets of water spray away from him. He held Harry out towards Remus. “Take him. I have to find Pete.”

 

Remus opened the door the rest of the way. He wanted to ask Sirius to come in, to demand answers to unasked questions. Where were James and Lily? Were they, as Remus feared, dead? Had Voldemort--

 

Sirius pushed Harry into Remus’ arms before Remus could articulate any of his questions, and then he dropped down and became Padfoot and scampered off. Remus was left in the doorway of his flat, holding his dead friends’ son, and still half asleep. Remus swallowed the questions back down and looked at Harry. Harry was half asleep as well, moreso than Remus, and there were dried tears mixed in with the rainwater on his cheeks. 

 

Remus reached up and wiped away some of the wetness as something settled uneasily in the depths of his stomach. “Harry, love, I’m so sorry.”

 

Harry curled his tiny fist around Remus’ shirt. 

 

“We can’t stay here,” Remus whispered into the night. Sirius was going to come back, but Remus didn’t know how long it would take for him to find Peter and make sure that Peter was safe. It was just him and Harry, with no answers because no questions were ever asked. 

 

Remus shook his head. “We can’t stay here. I don’t… I don’t know who told him, but you… you’re still in danger.”

 

He was talking to a baby. Harry had no idea what Remus was saying. Remus had no idea where he was supposed to go. He was afraid to go to any other wizard, even Dumbledore or someone else in the Order, because he didn’t know who he could trust at this moment. Sirius and Pete had been closest to Harry’s parents, and he didn’t know where either of them had gone off to. 

 

Sirius… Remus’ brain finally woke up, and he gripped Harry tighter. Sirius had been the Potters’ Secret Keeper. Sirius was the only one who’d known where they were. Sirius… Sirius was the only one who could have gotten them killed. 

 

Remus looked down at Harry again, willing his arms to stop shaking and for the feeling of bile to go back down his throat. Sirius had gotten James and Lily killed. Remus didn’t know why he’d decided to leave Harry behind, but he had. 

 

He took a deep, steadying breath and reminded himself that there was still somewhere Sirius didn’t know to look for him. He brushed Harry’s hair down. “I know where we need to go. I’ll keep you safe.”

 

* * *

 

Hope Howell Lupin was a force of nature. Remus had never let his friends meet his mum. He wasn’t embarrassed of her, no, but he was worried that they’d be overwhelmed. Hope, upon realising that Remus’ father couldn’t see his son as anything but a werewolf, had forced the man out of his home and taken it for herself and her son. Hope had engineered locks on the basement door that didn’t require spells but were still strong enough to keep Remus safe while he transformed. Hope had added a rainbow striped flag to the decor when Remus told her he fancied blokes.

 

Hope was, for all intents and purposes, the strongest person Remus had ever met. She was also the only person he knew he could trust with Harry Potter. 

 

He apparated into his mum’s kitchen at around four in the morning, and the feeling of familiar and magic and home overwhelmed him. He’d added layer after layer of protective magic to this place once he left Hogwarts. Remus knew his mum was strong, but he didn’t want to put her at risk. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if she’d been hurt in the war. 

 

Remus looked around now, taking in a room he hadn’t seen since he’d been eighteen and had come home after graduation to tell Hope that he was joining the Order. She’d been proud and worried all at once, and she’d made Remus promise to get out alive. 

 

Somehow, he had. Somehow, James and Lily hadn’t. 

 

Remus swallowed back the tears that were threatening to spill over. 

 

Harry chose that moment to wake up and look at Remus with bright green eyes. Those eyes crinkled down into a look of confusion, and he let go of Remus’ shirt. “Moo’y?”

 

“It’s me,” Remus said, choking on the words. He was going to have to tell Harry about his parents. He was going to have to face reality and find out exactly what had happened to Harry’s parents as well. Remus didn’t want to do any of that. He wanted to find his mum and curl up under one of her many blankets and avoid the world for a while.

 

The lights flipped on. 

 

“Remus?”

 

He looked up, and the first tear of the night finally fell. His mum was standing in her bathrobe, holding a cricket bat in one hand while her other was on the light switch. The bat fell to the floor with a clatter and Hope crossed over to her son. Her face was creased over with worry as she took in him and Harry. “What’s going on?”

 

“I think You Know Who--” Remus’ voice gave up on him and he couldn’t get the words out. He looked down at Harry, whose green eyes were welling up with tears. “Harry’s parents. I--”

 

“Oh, God,” Hope said. She reached out and slowly took Harry from Remus as Harry began to cry for real. Remus rubbed at his own face as his mum rocked Harry, speaking to him in a soft voice. Remus tried to focus on her and not on his own body. He felt the way he often did before a full moon, as though his insides were too much to contain and that he would either explode or fold in on himself. Everything ached, but there wasn’t a warm bath that could solve this ache. 

 

“Mum,” Remus said. He blinked, hard, ignoring the wetness on his own cheeks. “We need somewhere safe, to stay until… until I know what to do next.”

 

“Your room is still useable,” she said. She kissed the top of Harry’s head. “And I should be able to find your old crib in the attic. I’ll look tomorrow. Tonight, Harry can sleep in my bed and I’ll make sure he doesn’t roll too far away.”

 

“Thank you,” Remus said. He didn’t mention that he wouldn’t be able to sleep any time soon. He figured his mum would come to that conclusion on her own. 

 

“Do you want me to wake you for breakfast?” she asked. Harry’s crying had calmed, and now he was just sniffling with his face buried against Hope’s shoulder. She was bouncing him. “Or should I let you sleep as much as you need? You look like you haven’t slept since we last spoke.”

 

“I feel it,” he said. He wiped the back of his hand across his face. “But… I’d like it if you woke me. I… we should figure out what we’re doing now that everything… now that everything’s gone tits up.”

 

Hope nodded in agreement, and sent Remus back to his old room. Remus let himself be sent back. He couldn’t do much now. The shock of the past few hours was settling into his bones, and he needed to lay down. 

 

He looked up at the exposed beams on the ceiling above him as the sun tried to rise. James and Lily were most likely dead. Sirius had, to some extent, betrayed them. Sirius was a wild card now, and Remus couldn’t trust him to come back or to even be a friend. Remus didn’t know. There was so much that he didn’t know, and it was suffocating. 

 

He couldn’t bring himself to think about Peter. If Sirius was the traitor, then Peter was surely dead by now. If Sirius was the traitor, then he had to be out there, trying to hunt Remus and Harry down, trying to finish what he’d started by letting Voldemort know the location of the Potters. 

 

Remus squeezed his eyes shut as his heart twisted itself around his ribcage. He’d been too startled by Sirius’ presence tonight to think about why he’d come to Remus first. Remus had spent the better part of his adolescence being caught off guard by Sirius, and now… now he was at his mum’s home in Wales, with his dead friend’s son, wondering where his life was headed next. 

 

He had no idea what he was going to do tomorrow, or the day after that. He had no idea if the war was over, or if Sirius would find him again. All he had was Harry and his mum, and he had to keep them safe. He couldn’t protect anyone else, so he had to protect them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, I managed to get out a second chapter in a timely fashion. I don't know how this happened, nor do I know if it will happen again. I'm... notorious for starting a bunch of projects at once and then being surprised when I'm overwhelmed and can't keep a schedule to save my life. 
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter!

Sirius did not come and kill Hope or Remus or try to take Harry back. No one came. The week after Halloween was terrifyingly quiet at Hope’s house. The  _ Daily Prophet  _ showed up, and Remus was grateful that his mum had decided to keep up with wizarding news. He’d needed to know, but he couldn’t risk giving out her address. Luckily, she’d already added herself to the mailing list, probably so that she would know if anything happened to Remus.

 

The November first headline:  _ War is Over! The Boy Who Lives… Missing? _ Followed by article after article about how Harry Potter had somehow survived Voldemort and had last been seen with Sirius Black. 

 

The November second headline:  _ Sirius Black arrested for Murder! And where is The Boy Who Lived in all this?  _ Remus’ hands shook as he read that one. It confirmed all the things he had feared. Peter was dead, only a finger left to bury. Sirius had killed him, along with twelve Muggles. It had been at dawn on the first, and Sirius had been carted off while laughing.

 

The November third headline:  _ Black sentenced to Life in Azkaban! You-Know-Who’s followers Still at Large! _ Remus had set that day’s paper on fire as soon as he saw Sirius’ screaming mugshot. He looked deranged. Remus couldn’t recognise his old friend in that maniac. Remus couldn’t believe he’d let himself believe that Sirius was… that Sirius was what? Good? Better than his family? Not a traitor?

 

Remus buried his face in his hands at the kitchen table, letting sobs rack his body. He’d lost everything, everything aside from his mum and Harry, who were still here and were relying on him to keep them safe from whatever happened next. 

 

Remus didn’t know if he could do it. He knew he had to try, but he could barely keep himself together, let alone help a small child. 

 

There was a hand on his shoulder, followed by the scent of his mum’s shampoo and her arms enveloping him in a tight hug. She pulled him in close, kissing his hair and holding him as though he was still a child and he was still afraid of the dark. 

 

“I loved him,” Remus said into the fabric of his mum’s sweater. “He was my friend--he was everyone’s friend.”

 

“I know love,” she said. There was no judgement in her voice, no anger. She didn’t blame Remus, even when he knew he’d end up blaming himself. He should have known it would be Sirius, even though nothing had pointed towards Sirius before now. He should have known that Sirius was dangerous, angry, looking for something to take his anger out on. He should have seen it coming, really, considering how often Sirius talked back to Dumbledore. 

 

Remus’ head shot up.  _ Dumbledore _ . In all of his panic and grief, Remus hadn’t thought about the headmaster yet. Surely Dumbledore was going to contact him, asking about Harry’s whereabouts. 

 

He wiped his face, trying not to be embarrassed by his earlier outburst. His mum had seen him at his worst and his ugliest. She’d seen how he got before he transformed, and she’d seen him panicking about liking men. She wouldn’t care that he was distraught over losing two of his friends and having a third turn out to be a traitor. 

 

He looked up at her. “I should contact Dumbledore. He’s got to be worried about Harry’s safety after all of this.”

 

“Should you?” Hope asked. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Remus, I know you adore the man, but if he was so concerned with Harry, he would have come to you. You were close to his parents, after all.”

 

“He’s probably been busy,” Remus rationalised. He’d had similar conversations with Sirius before, about how Dumbledore never got personally involved in the war efforts. He was a busy man. He was managing both Hogwarts and the Order he couldn’t be everywhere at once. “Between losing the Potters and Sirius’ arrest and trial… I doubt he’s had time to even think about Harry until now.”

 

“If the paper has had time to think about Harry’s whereabouts, what’s Dumbledore’s excuse?” she asked, still looking irked. She uncrossed her arms to brush Remus’ hair out of his face, and he felt like he was a child again. “Other than letting him know that Harry is alive and well, why would you need to contact Dumbledore? Is he Harry’s guardian?”

 

“No,” Remus said.

 

“Who is, now that his parents are gone?”

 

“It was supposed to be Sirius, but…” Remus trailed off, his gaze shifting to the paper that was still on the table. Sirius couldn’t be Harry’s guardian. He’d made that decision himself when he decided to betray the Potters and get them killed. He’d further made that decision by killing Peter. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, calming himself. “I suppose he can’t do that anymore. So someone else will have to take care of Harry.”

 

“Why not you?” his mum asked. 

 

Remus looked at her as though she’d just announced that she was keeping a dragon in the back garden. He pointed to himself. “Me? Mum, I have no idea how to raise a child. I wouldn’t even know where to start!”

 

“Do you think I knew what I was doing when I had you?” she asked back, arching her eyebrow at him. 

 

“No, but you--” Remus cut himself off. She’d had help, yes, but she’d also decided that she didn’t need it. Remus’ father hadn’t been interested in raising a werewolf, and Hope had stepped in. She’d been the first person to treat Remus like a person more than a monster, and she’d shown him that there was nothing wrong with being a Muggle. Hell, she’d been the reason he and Lily had gotten along so well before she and James had gotten together. 

 

“But I what, Remus John?” she asked. She shook her head at him. “No one asks to become a parent. If you want to look into Lily and James’ living relatives, feel free, but Harry has family right here as well. He doesn’t have to grow up around strangers if you don’t want him to.”

 

Remus frowned. “What about on full moons? What am I supposed to do then?”

 

“I’m fifty, Remus, not dead,” Hope said. “I can take care of him while you take care of yourself.”

 

“Only if there aren’t any relatives willing to take care of him,” Remus said. He loved Harry, but he wasn’t so selfish as to take him away from his family. He hadn’t been as close to James as Sirius had, and he’d never considered himself to be James or Lily’s brother, either. He was a friend, and he refused to overstep his boundaries now. 

 

Hope nodded her head. “I’ll let you look into that, when you’re not looking after Harry, that is.”

 

As if on cue, Harry started to cry from the other room. Remus and his mum both startled, their heads whipping around to the source of the noise. Hope motioned for Remus to go first. “Go practice being a father. I’ll help if you need me.”

 

“Not a father yet,” Remus said, but he got up anyway. Father or not, Harry was still a small child. He still needed Remus. 

 

* * *

 

James had been an only child, and his parents had died before Harry had even been born. They’d lived to see their son get married, but not long enough to become grandparents. James had always been upset about that, knowing that the two generations would never intertwine. 

 

Lily’s family was harder to find. Her mother had died of cancer while they’d still been at Hogwarts, and Remus couldn’t find any trace of her father after 1980. He vaguely remembered the man being at the wedding, walking Lily down the aisle and taking in all of the magical arrangements with awe in his eyes. He could be Harry’s guardian, if only Remus could figure out where he’d gone off to after his daughter got married. 

 

Lily also had a sister, who was married and had a son of her own. Petunia Evans Dursley was the only living relative left, and she lived near London. It was almost too convenient. 

 

Remus tapped the address with the back of his quill. Harry was sitting on the floor beside his desk, enthralled by one of Remus’ old stuffed animals that had survived his childhood. It was a stuffed bear, with one missing eye. Remus smiled at the sight. 

 

He’d never intended on having children. Between his condition and his interest in blokes, he’d never let the thought cross his mind. He’d have been lucky to find someone who didn’t care about him becoming a werewolf, let alone someone who’d be willing to try for a kid with him. It was an impossibility, but looking at Harry now… he could see why people wanted children. 

 

Remus sighed. “Good thing I’ve still got a flat in London, isn’t it? I’ll still be able to see you if you move in with your family.”

 

Harry just held up the bear and called out, “bear!” to Remus. 

 

Remus nodded. “It sure is.”

 

He had no idea how to talk to children. Lily and James had found it amusing, how he always talked to Harry as though Harry knew what he was saying. The truth was that Remus thought baby talk was embarrassing. He couldn’t make himself do it.He’d been alright with Harry calling him Moony, but all of his friends called him that as well, so it wasn’t that odd. 

 

“How’d you like to meet your aunt and uncle?” Remus said. “I know your mum didn’t talk about them much, but they couldn’t have been that horrid. Or maybe they were, and my perception on people has become warped over the years.”

 

He’d seen how Sirius’ parents had treated him. Even though Sirius had turned out to be quite the bastard, it had still hurt to see his friend thrown around and yelled at like an animal. Remus wasn’t going to hand Harry over to people who treated him like shit for who he was. Harry was the son of two of the bravest wizards Remus had ever known. He wanted Harry to grow up being proud of his parents, and knowing the good that they had done for the war and the wizarding world. 

 

Harry reached out and grabbed Remus’ pant leg with his little hand. Remus set the quill and paper down on his desk and picked up Harry instead, positioning the toddler so that they were facing each other. “You don’t have to stay with them if they are horrid. My mum and I will take care of you. Hopefully. I don’t know if I’ll be of much use.”

 

“Moony,” Harry said. Remus didn’t know if he was agreeing or arguing. 

 

He ruffled Harry’s hair, glancing over the angry pink mark that crossed across Harry’s forehead. It was the only sign of Voldemort on the child, and a constant reminder of what had happened to his parents. Remus knew, that if Harry’s aunt and uncle didn’t want him, then he would be the one to explain everything to Harry. Remus didn’t know if he could do James and Lily justice. He felt lost, but he couldn’t show any of that in front of Harry.. 

 

So far, Harry had been doing alright. He’d cried for his mum and dad a few times, mostly around dinner when Remus and Hope set the table for three. There was no good way to explain to a toddler that his parents had died, and that he would never get to see them again. 

 

Remus pressed a kiss to the top of Harry’s head, mimicking how his mum had held him earlier. Harry would not be growing up completely alone. He had his aunt and uncle. He had family. And if his family didn’t want him, Harry would always have Remus and his mum. Hope wouldn’t let this kid grow up alone or unloved. She’d made sure Remus, despite everything, knew he was loved, and he was sure that she would do the same for Harry if it came to it.

 

“Let’s go to Privet Drive, shall we?” Remus asked Harry’s hair. “Make a trip of it, too.”

 

He needed to gather his things from his flat in London, anyway. He didn’t see himself going back to live in the city any time soon. It would be too much at once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this while avoiding working on an essay for class. Please never consider me as a role model. 
> 
> Also, I know that these chapters are on the shorter side, but I'm working on a bunch of stories at once (thanks ADHD) and this is the best way for me to keep up a regular update schedule. As the story progresses, I'll try to make things longer, but updates may not be as frequent if I do that.

Number 4, Privet Drive was located west of London. Remus, Hope, and Harry set out early on the morning of the sixth of November. Remus felt like shit, and he knew it was because of the upcoming full moon. Usually, he didn’t start feeling the affects of the moon until two days before, but he supposed that losing three of his friends and watching another turn traitor had had a negative effect on his body as well. 

 

Hope instructed him on what he would need for the journey, which would be taking them around three hours with Hope’s car. Remus had suggested they take the train, but Hope had shot that idea down as soon as he’d mentioned it. 

 

“You might be fine on a train for eight hours, but you’re no longer alone,” Hope said, and pushed Harry’s hair away from his eyes. She smiled at him, and he offered her one of his strawberries. “Harry’s a lovely boy, but even the best tempered children get tired after a few hours of travel.   
  


“We’ll take the car,” Remus said. He packed his wand and a bottle of anti-nausea pills his mum kept above the bathroom sink. He’d never ridden in a car this close to a transformation, and with the way things were going, he figured it would be best to err on the side of caution. 

 

They were on the train now, facing each other. Harry was in Remus’ lap. Hope had pulled out a few of Remus’ old books for the trip, and Remus was doing his best to keep his voice even and entertaining for the boy. He wanted to turn over onto his side and close his eyes and stop talking, but he couldn’t. It didn’t matter anymore that everything in his body hurt, and that he wanted to go back to sleep. He was, for the moment, in charge of a small child, and he couldn’t abandon him. 

 

“Have you thought about what you’ll do if Harry’s aunt and uncle don’t work out?” Hope said. 

 

“I’ll take care of him,” Remus said. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’ll go back to my flat, because it’s not very child-proof, but I’ll sort something out.”

 

“Or you could stay with me,” she said. Remus gave his mum a look, and she gave one right back. “It makes sense, Remus. I don’t know much about the wizarding world, but from what I can tell, people want to see Harry. People are going to want to  _ use _ Harry, once he’s old enough to be used. Keeping him away from the centre of everything, at least for now, might be your best move.”

 

“Only if his aunt and uncle won’t take him,” Remus said instinctively. He had to keep telling himself that. He was never supposed to raise Harry. He trusted James and Lily’s judgement on that, and he understood their reasoning. He was a werewolf, and there were days where he could barely do anything. There was one night a month where he was a danger to everyone around him, and that was no way to be a guardian to a small child. 

 

“Only if,” Hope agreed. She reached out and brushed Harry’s hair down, but it popped right back up. “He deserves a good home, and I know you can give him that.”

 

Remus wanted to argue, wanted to say that no home was safe with him in it, but Harry picked that moment to start complaining about the lack of entertainment. Remus wasn’t going to argue with a child, and so he dropped his gaze to the book and started reading to Harry again. He’d explain his worries to his mum later, if things didn’t work out with the Dursleys. 

 

* * *

 

The three of them had to stop for lunch before hailing a taxi to Privet Drive. Harry was hungry, and he made his displeasure known for the last thirty minutes of the train ride. Remus apologised to anyone who looked at him, and Hope took Harry into her arms and did her best to distract him from his hunger. 

 

He was old enough to chant “hungy, hungy,” while they rode, but not old enough to understand that there wasn’t much Hope or Remus could do for him. 

 

Remus took a couple of Muggle pain pills with his tea and sandwich, and wondered if they’d even be effective on him. He couldn’t remember what he and his mum had done in the years between his dad leaving and him going off to Hogwarts. Remus had managed the pain somehow, but now that he was back in the Muggle world, he was wishing for the alternative again. 

 

He missed having James, Pete, and Sirius around for the full moons. The three of them had made everything easier. 

 

“Get out of your head,” Hope said. She wasn’t even looking at him. She was feeding Harry a bite of chicken soup that Remus had cooled down with his wand when no one was looking. “Whatever you’re stuck on, it won’t be solved by moping about it.”

 

“Full moon’s coming up,” Remus said. “Where do you want me to go?”

 

“The basement,” Hope said, fixing Remus with a slightly confused look. “Where else would you go?”

 

“Well, if things don’t work out, and Harry stays with us…” Remus let himself trail off. He didn’t want to be in the house with Harry and his mum when he turned. Hope was brilliant, but she couldn’t do magic, and there wasn’t much she could do to defend herself and Harry from a werewolf if Remus managed to get out. He hadn’t used the basement since he’d been ten years old, and he had a feeling that a twenty-two year old wolf was a lot more powerful than a ten year old. 

 

“Then he and I will be safe upstairs, just as I’ve always been,” Hope said. She took a bite of her own lunch then. “You need to stop worrying about everyone. I can take care of myself, and I’ve already raised one son. What’s another one?”

 

“He’s not your son, though,” Remus argued. “And his parents were two wizards, both of whom showed their magic early--”

 

“If I can raise you on my own, I can surely deal with whatever Harry throws at me,” Hope said. She winked. “And besides, I’ve got you to help out this time. You’re not completely hopeless.”

 

Remus shrugged, not sure how to combat that. He could tell he wasn’t going to win this one, not against his mum. Once she decided she was going to do something, there wasn’t much use in resisting her. 

 

They finished up their lunch, and Hope had Remus clean Harry up. She said it was because she’d done enough cleaning up of children already, but Remus knew it was to get him used to the idea of parenthood. Remus was trying not to get too attached to Harry. He didn’t want to give him up, but he knew, rationally, that an aunt and an uncle were better than a werewolf and a Muggle mum. Harry needed a family. Remus didn’t know if he and his mum were good enough to be that for him. 

 

Hope hailed the taxi, and then paid for it despite Remus’ protests. He’d been turning his Order stipend into pounds, as he spent most of his time in London amongst Muggles, but that didn’t matter to his mum. If she wanted something, she really did get it. 

 

“Wha’s tat?” Harry asked, pointing out the window. 

 

“I have no idea, Harry,” Remus said honestly. He’d never been in this part of London, and he’d never had time to go around looking at tourist attractions eiter. 

 

“Wha’s tat?” Harry asked again, a minute or so later. 

 

“No idea about that either,” Remus said. Hope stifled a laugh behind the sleeve of her jumper. Remus adjusted his hold on Harry. “But maybe we can go explore London later. I think you’d like it.”

 

“Horse,” Harry said, excitedly pointing at the first and only horse they would see on the trip away from the city. Remus had no idea what a horse was doing in the suburbs of London, but he’d seen much stranger things in his life. He didn’t question it. He was just glad that Harry was enjoying himself. 

 

The taxi driver dropped them off in front of a row of unassuming houses. Hope and Remus both thanked him, and Remus managed to tip him first before getting out of the car with Harry and his mum. She’d grabbed the baby bag, which had Remus’ initials on it from when he’d been the baby in question. 

 

Remus realised, as he followed his mum up to the door of number 4, that his mum had probably kept all of his things in the hope that one day he’d be giving her a grandchild. This--raising Harry--would be the closest she got to that, and Remus suddenly felt guilty about it. He wasn’t the kind of man who had children, between being queer and being a werewolf, but he was his mum’s only child, and her only shot at grandchildren.

 

Maybe it wasn’t too late to give up on the Dursley’s entirely and go back to Wales with Harry. Lily had never been too proud of her sister, anyway. Surely they wouldn’t care that Remus was keeping Harry from them. 

 

He turned around to get the attention of the taxi driver, but the car had already zipped down the street and turned the corner. 

 

Remus was stuck at number 4. He held Harry closer to his chest and prayed to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t have to say goodbye after all. 

 

“Do you want to do it, or should I?” Hope asked. She stood at the door with one hand over the knocker. 

 

Remus looked down at his arms, which were full of a puckered out Harry. “I think you should.”

 

Hope nodded, and rapped on the knocker. Three times, and then she stepped back and attempted to peer through the closed curtains. A chilly breeze passed them over, and Remus rubbed Harry’s back. He hoped the boy wasn’t cold. It was only the beginning of November, and Remus hadn’t even thought about how he was going to buy Harry clothes for the winter. Maybe it was for the best that Hope had paid the driver. 

 

There was a click as the door was unlocked, and Remus was pulled from his thoughts. The door opened to reveal a woman a few years older than him, who looked quite startled to see Remus, Hope, and Harry at her doorstep. Remus remembered her from some of Lily’s old photos. Petunia Evans (Dursley, now) barely resembled her sister. She was a honey blonde, with sharp features and narrow eyes that regarded Remus with disdain. 

 

Hope smiled at Petunia. “Hullo. Are you Petunia Evans?”

 

“Petunia Dursley,” said Petunia, and Remus held back his eye roll. “May I ask who you are?”

 

“I’m Hope, and this is my son, Remus,” she said, and pointed to Remus. “We were friends with your sister, before she died.”

 

“I don’t have a sister,” Petunia snapped, but her eyes said otherwise. She drew herself up to her full height, which didn’t mean much to Remus, and stared down her nose at Hope. She couldn’t stare down her nose at Remus. Few people were tall enough to do so. “And your kind aren’t welcome here.”

 

Hope looked at Petunia as though she was planning how best to verbally annihilate her. “Our kind? Whatever do you mean by that?”

 

“You know what I mean,” Petunia said. Her eyes flicked over to Remus for a moment, and he realised that she was frightened by him. Whether she had figured out Harry’s parentage or not didn’t matter; Remus wouldn’t let her raise Harry. Better a werewolf and a Muggle mum than an aunt who disregarded wizards entirely because they were different. 

 

“I might,” Hope said. “But I find your prejudice appalling anyway. I’ve never said a spell in my life, but if I could, I’d use it to fix that closed up mind of yours.”

 

“I want nothing to do with people like you,” Petunia said. She shook her head. “Your little magic tricks are what got Lily killed, I suppose?”

 

“And your ignorance is going to keep you from her son,” Remus said, the words falling out of his mouth with ease. Hope looked at him with pride, and Petunia with disgust, and he knew he’d made the right decision. He spent enough of his life watching what he said, making sure no one could write him off as an angry, short-tempered monster, but perhaps Petunia Dursley could be an exception. Remus smiled at her, the same way his mum had. “Have a nice day, Petunia. I hope we don’t meet again any time soon.”

 

“We’d better not,” she said. Her lips were a thin white line across the bottom of her face. “If I see either of you loitering around my neighbourhood, I  _ will _ be alerting the authorities.”

 

“Good,” Hope said. “I’d love to see them try something.”

 

And then Remus was back to wishing his mum could back down from things. She’d always been the first to jump into an argument. Remus had gotten his sharp tongue from her, but unlike his mum, he’d learned when not to pick a fight. Sometimes, he’d learned, it was better to let the other person think they’d won. 

 

Hope put her hand on Remus’ arm. “Enjoy your evening.”

 

Petunia didn’t answer, instead slamming the door back shut on them. As soon as it closed, Remus stepped back from his mum. “Were you threatening her?”

 

“Why would I do that?” Hope asked. 

 

“Mum,” Remus said, “she’s a Muggle.”

 

“As am I,” Hope said. She rubbed Remus’ arm. “Love, if I went through life holding my tongue, I’d still be married to your father and you would have never gone to Hogwarts. Sometimes, speaking up is important, even if it  _ is _ rash and without second thought.”

 

Remus couldn’t find it in himself to agree with her then. Before, sure, he would have agreed, but he’d seen what happened when people jumped in without thinking. He’d lived through a war, and he knew that it really was better to be safe than to be sorry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little late, but I have half of chapter 5 already written, so that's good news. I didn't plan this chapter, but I realised while working on the next one that it would help get the fic in the direction I'm aiming for. 
> 
> Also, I apologise if I'm a little incoherent, I'm a little hungover from a rather intense party I was at last night. (Hello my name is Jeff and I'm one hell of a lightweight)

Hope and Remus took Harry around London after their experience with Petunia Dursley. Remus could tell that Hope was sitting on some choice words that she hadn’t gotten around to saying to Petunia’s face. Remus felt the same. He’d gotten rather good at holding his tongue, between his years at Hogwarts and then working for the Order. No one wanted an angry werewolf, and Remus didn’t want to give anyone a reason to see him as only a angry werewolf, and thus he’d become the “calm” one of the Marauders. 

 

The truth was that Remus had the foulest mouth when it was just him and his mates, or him and his mum. Remus had opinions, and got pissed off at people, but he’d learned that there were certain spaces where keeping his mouth shut was the smarter idea. 

 

Harry was the only one unaffected by his aunt’s attitude. He kept trying to toddle away from Remus and Hope while the three of them explored the London zoo. They’d ended up at the zoo because, according to Hope, it was the best place to keep a small child entertained. Remus knew he’d been before, as a very small child, but he didn’t really remember it. Most of his earliest memories of childhood had been washed over by the memory of being turned. 

 

He looked down at Harry, who had his face pressed to the glass of the tropical birds exhibit, and wondered if Harry would fare better. 

 

“Shame she couldn’t have inherited more of Lily,” Hope said. She had her hands folded in front of her, and was smiling pleasantly, but Remus could see the irritation burning behind her eyes. “Harry’s so young, but he already reminds me of her.”

 

“Lily?” Remus asked. 

 

“Of course,” Hope said. She shook her head. “If he reminded me of his aunt, I’d be worried. No one should have that much hatred in their heart, muggle  _ or  _ wizard.”

 

“It’s proof that bigotry runs through all walks of life,” Remus said. He and Hope both knew that all too well. She’d been kept out of the loop of most things related to the wizarding world, and Remus… well. Remus had tried to hide his condition from his friends for a good reason. They’d handled it well, but he’d been terrified his first few semesters at Hogwarts that someone would find out and that he’d lose all the friendships he’d make.

 

As selfish as it was, he was glad that Petunia had no idea who he was, other than a wizard. He could only imagine what else she would have had to say to him if she’d known. 

 

“She was quite the bitch, don’t you think?” Hope said. A mother nearby whipped her head around, looking as though she wanted to admonish Hope for her language. Hope merely smiled at the woman and bent down to keep Harry from smearing the glass too much. 

 

“She didn’t bother to show her face at the wedding; I think that says enough about her personality,” Remus said. He was lying about that. Petunia and her husband had showed up to the wedding, but only for about five minutes. Remus had only seen them because he’d been sent out to check on Lily and see if she was in her dress or if it was still safe for James to look at her. He’d found her, but she’d been in the middle of a heated argument with her sister and Remus had decided to back away before he got involved. 

 

When the ceremony started, there had been no sign of Petunia, and Lily had been looking anywhere but the empty chairs on her side of the church. It pissed Remus off, but he knew better than to bring it up in front of his mum. It wouldn’t fix anything now. Harry was staying with them, Petunia was a right bitch, and that was that. 

 

Harry decided that he was bored with the birds, and wandered back to Remus. He tugged at the hem of Remus’ shirt until Remus looked down and ruffled his hair. “Where to next, Harry?”

 

“Lion,” Harry said. He nodded to himself. “Daddy like lion.”

 

“He did, didn’t he,” Remus said, and bit into the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. James had made sure to decorate Harry’s nursery with lions, convinced that it would somehow make Harry a Gryffindor if he hadn’t been one already. 

 

He led Harry through the zoo and ignored his mum’s eyes on his back. She had to know what he was thinking; she’d raised him and watched as he learned how to hide his hurt behind bitten lips and dropped gazes. Remus didn’t talk about things like this. He hadn’t told his mom much of anything about the war, because he didn’t know how to explain it. He didn’t want to add to her anxieties, not when she couldn’t do anything to help him. 

 

James and Lily had been so damn  _ young _ , was the thing. Really, they’d all been young, but Remus had always felt older than his friends. They’d never had the chance to grow up. They’d all gone straight from Hogwarts into the Order, with Sirius, James, and Lily signing up before the ink on their diplomas had even dried. Remus had waited. He’d wanted to be something other than a warrior, knowing that his condition would hold him back. In the end, he’d joined to protect his mum. Death Eaters didn’t care about differentiating between Muggleborn and plain Muggle, and Remus couldn’t sit back and apply to universities while his friends were putting their lives on the line. 

 

He wasn’t a coward. None of them had been cowards, but none of them had been smart, either. They’d been brave, blindly throwing themselves into a war at the first chance they had. 

 

Peter and Remus had talked about it, once, late at night after a few Firewhiskies. Remus bit his cheek again as his mind shifted to Peter. Peter, who hadn’t wanted to join the war. Peter, who had wanted to take his parents out of the country so that they wouldn’t get caught up in the “blood traitor” madness. Peter, who had confessed to Remus that Sirius and James had all but threatened him to join the Order that summer after they all graduated. 

 

Remus frowned. Sirius really had gotten James and Peter killed, hadn’t he? Peter was a victim in all of this; Sirius had no reason to go after him after he’d already gotten James and Lily killed, but--

 

_ No _ . Remus couldn’t think about it. Sirius was… he was like the rest of his family, really. Remus didn’t want to think it, because Sirius had been his friend for  _ years _ , but the man had turned out to be no better than his family. 

 

“Do you need a moment?” Hope asked, pulling Remus out of his quickly spiralling thoughts. 

 

He shook his head, and loosened his grip on Harry’s hand. He hadn’t even realised he’d been holding the boy so tightly until now. “No, I'm alright.”

 

Hope didn’t look convinced. Harry looked concerned too, if it was possible for a toddler to know what concern meant. 

 

Remus sighed. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. He gave Harry his best smile, hoping that he could convince the boy that he was alright even if he couldn't’ convince his mum of the same thing. He’d mourn, he knew he would, but this wasn’t the time or place for him to get into the thick of it. 

 

* * *

 

“Have  _ you _ considered contacting Dumbledore?” Hope asked during dinner. They’d gotten takeaway, as neither Hope nor Remus wanted to cook after being on the train all afternoon. 

 

Remus was leaned across the table, trying to convince Harry that peas were good. He was doing a shit job at it, as Harry had only managed to swallow one without complaint so far. On one hand, Remus sympathised with him, as he thought peas were an odd, unappealing texture and avoided them himself. On the other hand, Harry was a kid, and kids needed vegetables. Even if they were a shit texture.

 

Remus pushed his hair out of his face with his free hand. “What, instead of waiting for him to find me? Mum, the man’s  _ busy _ . The wizarding world is trying to get back on its feet, he’s got a school to run, and I doubt I’m high on his priority list.”

 

“Yes, but he was the one to suggest that Harry’s parents go into hiding,” Hope said. 

 

Remus wished he hadn’t told her that. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he wasn’t rushing to inform Dumbledore of Harry’s whereabouts. Something about all of this--Harry’s aunt, Sirius’ sudden betrayal--it felt off. It felt as though there was a missing piece, and Remus didn’t know if he could trust Dumbledore. Dumbledore had been the one behind the Order’s movements during the war. He’d known the Death Eater’s movements before anyone else. He was a brilliant man, and a mastermind when it came to warfare, but Remus didn’t know if he knew the first thing about raising a child. 

 

After all, he’d known full well how the Blacks had treated their sons, and he hadn’t bothered to step in there. A bitter part of Remus thought that Sirius wouldn’t have betrayed the Potters and the Order if Dumbledore had done something for him and his brother. 

 

Hope raised her eyebrow. “You don’t trust him, do you?”

 

“I don’t trust many people, not after everything that’s happened,” Remus said. He turned his attention to Harry, and tried to get him to take the forkful of peas. “Come on, Harry, work with me on this.”

 

“No,” Harry said simply.

 

“It’s for your own good?” Remus offered. 

 

“Want carrot,” Harry said, and pointed at Remus’ own plate. 

 

Remus set the fork down and handed Harry a carrot. “It’s still a vegetable. I’ll call this one a win.”

 

“Greens are better for him,” Hope said. She took a sip from her drink. “And stop using Harry to deflect. The war is over, Remus, keeping secrets from me isn’t going to keep me safe anymore.”

 

She had a point. Remus had held his tongue around his mum during the war to protect her. She’d known that was his reasoning, and she’d understood. Sometimes, ignorance was better because it was a form of protection. If the Death Eaters had ever come for Hope, it would have been because she was a Muggle, and not because she knew information about the Order. However, the war was over. Harry’s survival had ended Voldemort’s reign, and now there was no need for secrets. There were no spies left, no fears about someone turning on the Order, because after all, the spy had outed himself. Sirius had betrayed Harry’s parents, and killed Peter and gotten himself thrown in Azkaban for it. 

 

Remus let himself relax, just for a moment. His body was sore, but he didn’t need to keep himself tense anymore. Not really. “I don’t know if I trust Dumbledore with Harry. He has a habit of collecting people, and I don’t want Harry to become another toy in his collection.”

 

Hope narrowed her eyes. “What does he do with these people? Were you one of them, in the war?”

 

Remus nodded. “I spent a lot of time with… with people like me, trying to convince them that Dumbledore was better than Voldemort.”

 

“By the look on your face, I can assume it didn’t go as planned,” Hope said. She didn’t flinch at Voldemort’s name. She was the reason Remus had started using his name. She knew the things he’d done, read the articles in the  _ Prophet _ and heard Remus’ Order stories, and she wasn’t afraid of him. Remus figured that, if his mum was brave enough to call Voldemort by name, then he ought to be to. 

 

“It didn’t,” Remus said. The other werewolves had figured out that Remus wasn’t like them. They hadn’t been a fan of his “domestication” and had tried to turn him rabid. Remus had bolted, knowing that if he stayed, he would hurt innocent people. Remus could live with the shame of letting Dumbledore down. He couldn’t live knowing that he’d hurt someone innocent. 

 

Hope nodded. “Well, I suppose it would take a lot. You remember how awful your father was, even after you were turned. That man was in charge of making rules for magical creatures, and he looked at them as though they were--”

 

“--monsters,” Remus said, finishing for her. Hope looked like she wanted to argue, and so Remus kept talking. “There were a lot of problems with that mission, yes, but Dumbledore insisted I take it. I was the only one who could, after all. I was his example that werewolves could be more than a beast.”

 

“You’re not an example to be shown off,” Hope said. 

 

“I know.” He knew. He’d heard it before, from his mum and from his friends after they’d found out. It didn’t change the truth, which was that most people only saw him as an example. Remus was always one irate response away from becoming a monster in the eyes of most wizards. 

 

Hope shook her head. “Well, maybe it's for the best that you kept the details of your missions from me. If I’d known Dumbledore was parading you around like a pet, I would have found a way into Hogwarts myself.”

 

She reached across the table and placed her fingers on the edge of Harry’s smaller plate. “Harry, love, are you finished with dinner? I think there are some fortune cookies in the bag, we can see what your Christmas is going to look like.”

 

Harry lit up, and Remus fell back into his seat. He was glad that his mum had changed the subject. She did that, sometimes, when things got heated. It wasn’t her way of avoiding hard topics, because Hope had never avoided a hard topic in her life. Instead, it was her way of letting people have a break. She pushed Remus to open up, but she never  _ forced _ him to talk more than he was comfortable with. 

 

Remus grabbed his own plate. The war was over, yes, but the fallout from it was just beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I know this is late, but my computer's hard drive fucked up about a week ago and so I've been without a laptop since then. It's still in the process of getting fixed, but I realised today that my school's library has computers for the students to use and so I headed over and started typing shit up. 
> 
> And here we are! Enjoy!

Remus’ first full moon back in Wales was the worst moon he’d had in a while. He woke up the morning of November 12th covered in wounds, and with his fingers caked in drying blood. He passed out again not long after that, and when he awoke for the second time, he was wrapped in a blanket and laid out on his mum’s sofa. It was past noon, and there was a warm cup of tea sitting on the table in front of him. 

 

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Remus asked as he sat up. Most of his wounds had been bandaged, save for a few small cuts on his upper arm. Remus pulled the blanket around his shoulders as his mum handed him the tea. 

 

“I took the day off,” she said. “Harry’s taking his nap. I didn’t think I could leave the two of you alone today.”

 

Remus frowned. “You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

 

“Remus, I’ve been working at that library since I was your age,” she said. “If they were going to get rid of me, they would have done so years ago.”

 

“I don’t want you to lose your job because of me,” he said. 

 

“I didn’t lose it when you were a child,” Hope said. She brushed his hair away from his face. “I won’t lose it now that you’re grown, either. Besides, they believed that my age is finally catching up to me.”

 

Remus let out a huff of laughter at that. Hope had never acted her age. She was quickly approaching fifty, but sometimes she acted as young as Remus. Often, Remus had felt as though his mum was the same age as him. It was a combination of her youthful spirit and his constant exhaustion from his condition.

 

Hope stood up and left Remus alone on the couch. He assumed that she’d gone to check on Harry, who’d been relocated upstairs while Remus recovered. Harry was too young for Hope and Remus to explain lycanthropy to him, but old enough that he would recognise that Remus was hurt. Thus, the adults had decided to keep him away from Remus, at least until Remus looked a little more put together and less like he’d been tearing at his own flesh the night before. 

 

Remus was surprised when his mum came back holding the morning’s edition of the  _ Daily Prophet. _ It had been folded and refolded a few times, which meant she’d already read it herself. 

 

Remus frowned. “I thought you’d gone to check on Harry.”

 

“I put him down for a nap before you woke up,” she said. “He was asking for you, though. Or, well, he was asking for Moony, but I know that’s really you.”

 

“James was trying to get him to call us by our school names,” Remus said. Harry had gotten Moony and “Pa-foo” pretty easily, but he’d only been able to call Peter “Worm” before everything came crashing down around them. 

 

“That sounds like him,” Hope said. She offered Remus the paper. “There’s an article about the Potters’ funeral. I know we decided not to go, but I thought you might want to see what they said.”

 

The funeral had been the previous afternoon. Remus hadn’t wanted to risk it, since he would have been attending with his Muggle mother and a one year old child. He’d also been afraid of going back to the wizarding world after everything. He didn’t know what people would say to him,or what he was supposed to say back. Or, really, what to say about Harry. 

 

The wizards still thought Harry was missing. Remus didn’t want to be the one to correct them. He didn’t want Harry to be brought up in the limelight, nor did he want his mum to be thrown into a world that didn’t understand her. 

 

Also, werewolves weren’t legally allowed to foster children. Remus knew that he was the only one of James’ friends left after the war, and that James and Lily would have wanted Harry to be raised by someone that would love him, but the rest of the world wouldn’t see it that way. They’d see Remus as dangerous, especially since he was living with someone who couldn’t use magic to protect herself and Harry if anything went wrong during a full moon. 

 

Remus took the paper from his mum and flipped through it until he found the article. It was near the back, but they’d given it a sizeable header. 

 

_ The memorial service for James and Lily Potter was held in Godric’s Hollow yesterday. Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and a friend of the Potters, gave a heartwarming eulogy… surprisingly, Remus Lupin, one of the only living friends of the Potters left, was not to be found.  _

 

Remus frowned at that and looked up over the paper at his mum. “Hopefully no one will connect the dots.”

 

“If they do, I’ll whack them over the head,” Hope said, and winked. “That’s as good as one of your Obliviate spells, I presume?”

 

Remus shook his head, but he was smiling under it. Perhaps it was for the best that his mum wasn't a wizard. He could only imagine the kinds of hijinks she would have gotten up to if she'd been able to perform magic. Remus figured that she would have put the Marauders to shame. 

 

The rest of the day was spent quietly. Remus didn’t move around much, still sore from the previous night, and Hope did most of the Harry related tasks. He was still short on clothes that fit, and had been wearing a few of Remus’ old jumpers while Hope washed Harry’s own clothes. Remus hadn’t even thought to grab Harry’s things from Godric’s Hollow. He still didn’t know if he would be able to find it, as he hadn’t been the Secret Keeper. Sirius was the one with that title, even in Azkaban. 

 

Remus thought a lot about Sirius over the next few weeks. He thought about Sirius while he, Hope, and Harry went into town to buy Harry some clothes and a few toys before Christmas. He thought about Sirius at night, when he couldn’t get to sleep. He thought about the look on Sirius’ face that Halloween night, the absolute rage that had crossed his grey eyes. 

 

Something about that night still felt wrong. Besides the obvious, of course. Remus wanted to go back to Halloween, to look it over from the outside, but he had no way of doing so. He was stuck in the present, a few days away from Christmas.

 

He and Hope wrapped their gifts separately, both of them working with Harry and telling him about Santa. Hope had asked if there were any wizard-specific rituals around Christmas, but Remus couldn’t think of any. Besides, Lily had been Muggleborn, and James had always had an interest in Muggle traditions. He had a feeling that, if they’d been alive, they would have made Harry’s second Christmas look much like the one Remus and Hope were setting up. 

 

“Harry, mind passing me the tape?” Remus said. He was holding the wrapping shut on his mum’s gift (a book on Herbology that he thought she’d find interesting) while Harry messed around with the tape dispenser on the floor. 

 

“Here,” Harry said, and dropped the tape halfway between himself and Remus. 

 

Remus raised his eyebrows and realised a moment later that his mum had given him that exact same look whenever he’d done something cheeky for the hell of it. “Harry, really? I’ve only got one arm at the moment. You can walk over here and give it to me.”

 

Harry looked at Remus, and then at the tape. And then back at Remus. Remus raised his eyebrows and tilted his head down towards the boy, engaging him in a staring contest. He'd done the same thing with Peter, Sirius, and James back at Hogwarts. Usually, it was when one of them had tried to get Remus to do their work for them. Remus had never given in, knowing that if he gave in once, it would be enough for his friends to think they could ask him whenever they wanted. Remus was a fast writer, but he couldn't get through four essays at once. No one was that good. 

 

Harry broke first, as he was only a year and a half old and had no idea what a staring contest was. He burst into giggles, and Remus found himself grinning back at the boy. He gave in and let go of the present to collect the tape from the floor between the two of them. 

 

“Your dad could never keep a straight face either,” Remus said, off-hand. “I never figured out how he managed to get away with half the shit we did at school.”

 

Remus looked over at Harry. He frowned. “Can I say shit in front of you? Do you even know what that means?”

 

“Bad word,” Harry said. 

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

“Mama say no,” Harry said. He wiggled his hand at Remus, his fingers half curled into a point. 

 

“I won’t say that around you anymore, then, if your mum wouldn’t approve,” Remus said. He choked a little on the words, knowing that at this point it didn’t matter too much if Lily would have approved or not. She was dead. She’d been gone for nearly a month, and even though Hope had said it would get easier with time, Remus didn’t believe her yet. 

 

He turned his face away from Harry and went back to the gift-wrapping. Remus didn’t want to make Harry’s first Christmas without his parents a depressing occasion. He could put on a good face and act as though he wasn’t still restless at night, losing sleep over the thousands of what if’s surrounding Halloween night. 

 

* * *

 

Christmas turned out to be a relatively subdued affair. Harry was obsessed with the tree that Remus had used magic to put up, and spent most of the morning watching the lights twinkle and the sparse ornaments dance across the branches. Hope and Remus drank their respective teas and tried to get Harry interested in the gifts, even the ones not for him, but he was only interested in the tree. 

 

In the end, Hope pulled out her camera and snapped a few pictures of Harry gaping at the tree, and then pushed Remus towards it as well. Remus, true to his nature, protested. 

 

“Mum, you’ve got enough Christmas photos of me as it is,” he said. 

 

She rolled her eyes. “Of you? Yes. But not of you and Harry together. I couldn’t make it out to the Potters’ last year, so really this is your first Christmas together.”

 

“What are you going to do with them?” Remus asked. He crouched down next to Harry and pulled him into his lap anyway. 

 

“Oh, I won’t be sending them out, don’t worry about that,” Hope said. “I’ve got photobooks for that. I’m just making memories, for when Harry’s older.”

 

Remus sat up. “Shit. Do we have any pictures of his mum and dad?”

 

“You might, in your school bin,” Hope said. She motioned for him to turn his attention to the tree. “Now act like you’re still in love with Christmas for a moment. I want a good shot.”

 

Remus nodded, and looked up at the tree. It was different from the Christmases he’d experienced as a child. After his mum and dad had split, all of Remus’ Christmases had been Muggle only. He’d been too young to do magic outside of Hogwarts, and it was all Hope had known. Of course, she’d taken him to Diagon Alley every New Years so that they could watch the fireworks together, but for Remus, Christmas was more of a muggle tradition than a wizarding one. 

 

He’d spent his first Christmas post-Hogwarts with Lily, James, Peter, and Sirius. The five of them had gotten a flat together in London, back before the war had taken over their lives and Lily and James had decided to shack up alone. It had been cramped, all five of them together, but it had felt exactly like a home should have. 

 

It hadn’t lasted. Nothing from Remus’ time at Hogwarts had survived the war, not really. He was twenty-one now, with a baby and his mum and his friends were all either dead or locked up. 

 

Remus leaned forward, surrounding Harry in what he hoped would be understood as a protective gesture. He kissed the top of Harry’s head, closing his eyes for a moment. Whatever the future brought them, Remus would make sure that they all survived it. He’d lost enough for one lifetime, and he wasn’t going to lose anyone else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this took a hot sec to post; I'm doing WSBB and also catching up from not having a laptop for two weeks. And I've got like.... family shit going on that I'm purposely repressing because I'm like Remus in the sense that emotions are for NERDS. (Not really, I just.... don't wanna open that can of worms yet)
> 
> Anyway, here's the chapter! It's gonna be pretty light hearted for the next few chapters, as we go into Harry being a little dude doing his best with his not-dad and his not-granma in Wales.

The next year went by in mostly a blur. Remus and Hope found a group of young single parents that met at a park every Tuesday--weather permitting--and Remus became a part of that group. He got quite a few strange looks the first week, as he and Harry looked nothing alike, and both of them had visible scars across their faces. Remus let Harry’s hair grow longer than he’d ever had his as a child, to help cover the lightning bolt criss-crossing over his forehead, but it wasn’t always enough. 

 

Hope went back to working full time, and was out of the house most days. Remus re-learned his way around the muggle world, and started taking Harry out with him whenever he went to the market, or just wandered around to get the two of them out of the house.

 

By Harry’s second birthday, Remus was starting to feel more like a person again. It was strange. Sometimes, he felt guilty for moving on from grieving over his friends’ deaths. Other times, he knew that they wouldn’t have wanted him to waste away in his own sadness, and that it was a good thing he’d started to leave his mum’s house more than once a month. 

 

July 31st, 1982 was four days before the full moon, but Remus woke up on the day of Harry’s second birthday feeling just as lively as he had the week prior. He took it as a good sign. He was a little tired, and opted for a cup of coffee instead of tea with breakfast, but other than that, he felt like a normal person. 

 

They’d invited a few of the single mums over, along with their respective toddlers. Hope had taken the day off to help Remus set the house up for the horde of small children that were about to enter it, and the two were taking turns entertaining Harry while the other decorated. Remus had stored his wand up in his own room, deciding it would be less risky to do everything without magic. He didn’t want to leave his wand out today, not when there would be so many Muggles in the house. 

 

They tackled the kitchen first, scrubbing and clearing off the counters so that everyone would be able to put their food out. It was supposed to be a casual get together, but Hope had warned Remus that young people tended to go overboard with babies, and that Harry was young enough to warrant a large party. Remus wasn’t too surprised by that; he’d been there for Harry’s first birthday, after all. It had been smaller, because they were in the middle of the war and the Potters had gone into hiding, but the people who’d been able to come had brought Harry copious amounts of gifts, and the party had gone on for hours until James and Lily declared that it was Harry’s nap time and that they should all head home before it got dark. 

 

Remus didn’t know how he was supposed to top that. Sure, Harry had made friends with the other kids in the group, but Remus hadn’t gotten too close to any of the parents. He was worried about it all. He was a wizard, and on top of that, he was a werewolf, and on top of  _ that _ , he wasn’t Harry’s biological father, and it was a hard explanation to give. 

 

Most people stopped asking questions when Remus mentioned that Harry’s parents had died and that he was their friend, but he didn't like the sympathetic looks he got as a result of that explanation. It was easier to keep everyone at a safe distance for now, while he figured out how much of himself he could give out to the muggle world.

 

The first mum showed up less than five minutes after Hope and Remus had finished clearing out the sitting room of all things wizarding. Remus’ bedroom upstairs had become the dumping ground, and it was filled with books and parchment and a handful of photos from his time at Hogwarts. Hopefully no one would ask him about school. Hopefully all of the attention would stay on Harry for the afternoon.

 

Hope let the mum, a woman named June with twins a year older than Harry, in and offered her tea. Remus was in the kitchen with Harry, trying to convince him that the cake was for later and not for him to stick his fingers in. 

 

“I know that it looks fucking delicious, but it’s for everyone, not just us,” Remus said, gently pulling Harry’s hand away from the icing again. He was supposed to be getting candles. He didn’t know where the candles were, and was realising too late that he should have asked his mum about that. “We have to keep it looking nice.”

 

“Why?” Harry asked. 

 

“I have no idea,” Remus said, biting his lip to hide a smile. Sometimes Harry’s questions got annoying, but sometimes his innocence was endearing. “It’ll taste the same whether the icing looks nice or not, but sometimes we do things we don’t understand.”

 

“Why?”

 

“...society, I suppose.”

 

“Okay,” Harry said, and then lifted his hand to grab for the icing again. Remus swore and just picked the boy up, deciding that Harry could sit on the other end of the counter while he fished around for the candles. 

 

Remus sat Harry down, away from the edge, and looked him in the eyes. “Do not fall off.”

 

“Okay,” Harry said. 

 

That didn’t mean he’d understood Remus, of course, but Remus hoped it did. Remus left Harry alone then, careful to keep the kid in his peripheral vision as he fished about for the candles. He found them in the drawer beside the stove top, which made no sense at all because of how that drawer would often get warm while people were cooking. 

 

He could hear Hope and June talking through the wall, and quickly shoved the two candles into the cake before covering it again. He turned to Harry and gave him his best smile. “Alright, party time. Let’s see how this goes.”

 

Harry was somewhat shy around the other kids, now that they were all in his house. He was friendly, and tried to keep up with everything that was going on around him, but Remus could tell he was a little overwhelmed by it all. Harry wasn’t used to having all the attention on him. He was used to attention, sure, being the only child in the house and having two parental figures who were willing to do anything for him, but he wasn’t used to dozens of adults fawning over him. 

 

Remus thought about how the Prophet had started hailing Harry as a mysterious war hero, and was glad that his mum was a muggle. Harry would never grow up ignorant to who he was, but he’d grow up far enough away from the wizarding world that he could be Harry Potter first, and the Boy Who Lived second, if he wanted that. 

 

“Harry, do you think it’s time for cake?” Hope said. She crouched down next to little Harry, who was trying to demonstrate his new dragon toy to one of his friends. 

 

Harry looked up at her. “Cake time.”

 

Hope smiled. “Cake time indeed. Come on, let’s see if we can get everyone to move to the kitchen.”

 

She took his hand and helped him stand up. She’d mentioned that they needed to start pushing Harry to walk on his own, and that carrying him was going to hold him back from his development. Theoretically, Remus agreed with her, but he was also very tall and stooping over to give Harry his thumbs resulted in Remus having a sore back. He let Hope do most of the walking with Harry.

 

Remus slipped in front of his mum and Harry and grabbed the cake again. It was a relatively simple one, home made and strawberry flavoured (Harry’s new favourite), with  _ Happy Birthday Harry!! _ swirled across the top in Hope’s neat cursive. Remus had never had great handwriting. He wrote too quickly, and his left-handedness meant that he often smeared the words with his quill as he scratched across the page. His mum, on the other hand, had incredibly neat writing. Remus was a little jealous, but he’d never let it show.

 

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” June said, bringing her hand to her cheek. She fluttered her eyes up at Remus, and he cocked his head towards his mum. 

 

“Hope did it,” Remus said. “I’m no good with baking.”

 

“He can hold his own when it comes to dinner, though, don’t let the masculine front fool you,” Hope said. She pulled out a chair for Harry, and he climbed up in it, bouncing in his seat. Hope rested her hand on his shoulder and looked over at her son. “Ready?”

 

Remus nodded. He pulled out a lighter and lit the candles, and then the room burst into a rendition of Happy Birthday. The kids were all trying to sing over each other, and Harry was also singing, which Remus found adorable. He understood it; he’d never known what to do whenever his friends had sung to him. 

 

Remus sat the cake down in front of Harry as the song finished. Harry looked up at Remus with his big green eyes, clearly waiting for the signal to blow at the candles. Remus nodded. “It’s your cake, Harry. Blow ‘em out.”

 

Harry dramatically sucked in his breath, and then blew, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so. Remus flicked his fingers out as Harry blew, extinguishing the flames with a little bit of magical assistance. The adults clapped, a few of them genuinely impressed that Harry had blown the candles out on his own (Remus wasn’t about to explain what had actually happened), and the kids started asking for slices. 

 

Remus held up the cake knife and addressed Harry first. “Tell me when it’s enough, alright?”

 

He cut into the cake, and then started sliding the knife over. He wasn’t going to give Harry a huge slice, because he knew better, but he liked to give the kid a bit of freedom. 

 

Harry’s eyes were narrowed in concentration, and his hands were squished against his cheeks as he waited for Remus to get the slice to where he wanted. After a few seconds, his eyes lit up and he stood in his chair. “Okay! Nuff!”

 

“Thank you,” Remus said, and cut back into the cake. 

 

Hope pulled out the two candles and gave them to Harry as well, since it was his birthday. Harry reached his hands out, and Hope held them right out of reach. “I know it’s your birthday, but what do we say?”

 

“Thank,” Harry said.

 

“Thank who?” Remus found himself echoing his mum, and wondered when he’d started to pick up her parenting habits. He wasn’t sure she’d used that on him as a kid, but then again she’d been a lot younger when she’d been raising Remus. 

 

Harry looked up at Remus. He’d already taken a bite of the cake, and there were little pink strawberry crumbles around his mouth. He pointed up at Remus with his fork (that he hadn’t used). “Thank Moony.”

 

Remus’ heart flopped over in his chest, and he bit down on the inside of his mouth. Shit. He really did love this fucking kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have forgotten about this fic. I've been working on my fic for WSBB, and also I've been ass deep in cosplay stuff. But hey, I remembered, and I updated! Even if it took a few weeks (shhhhh.... ADHD is a bitch like that). 
> 
> Enjoy! (And don't worry, we're getting closer to Sirius coming back into the fic. I haven't forgotten about him)

Harry’s second year flew by. By the time Christmas of 1982 came around, Harry was running through the house and telling half-finished stories about everything he encountered. Remus had stopped deferring to Hope about everything, and had started to trust himself when it came to Harry’s development. He’d become a regular at the single parent meetings, and even invited June’s twins over for a playdate in October. 

 

It was slow progress, but it was progress, and Remus had learned to live with it. 

 

He and Hope got Harry a broom for Christmas that year, and explained that he could only fly in the house, and that it was a very special toy. He couldn’t share it with his friends, and it had to stay in Remus’ room when he wasn’t using it. 

 

Remus had a feeling that Harry had nodded along just so that he and his mum would stop talking and let Harry fly. Harry took to the broom instantly, and Remus was reminded of James. James had been the Quidditch maniac out of the four of them, and had managed to drag Sirius and Peter into his love of the sport by the end of first year. He’d made all of them try out with them, but Remus had gotten out of it by falling off of his broom as soon as the whistle went off. 

 

James had been pissed at him, but Remus had shrugged it off. He’d said he didn’t want to play, so it wasn’t his fault, really. H

 

“Why didn’t you get into Quidditch, again?” Hope asked one day in early February. She’d gotten home from work late, and Harry was flying around the living room while Remus cooked and occasionally poked his head out to make sure Harry hadn’t flown into a wall. 

 

Remus tapped the spoon on the edge of the pan. “Practice didn’t line up with the full moon. And at that time no one but Dumbledore knew about me.”

 

“You could have tried out again once James made captain,” Hope said. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I played rugby in school. It’s good for your health.”

 

“Mum, rugby and Quidditch are two very different sports,” Remus said. “You can’t fall to your death in rugby.”

 

“Harry, do you want to play Quidditch once you’re old enough?” she asked.

 

“Yeah!” Harry squealed. 

 

Remus bit back a smile, even though neither of them could see. He knew his mum was proud of him for what he had done with himself, but he also knew she’d wanted a more outgoing son. Remus hadn’t had much of a choice, though. Being a werewolf had held him back from a lot of things in school, and it was still holding him back now that he was finished. He’d been brilliant, but not brilliant enough to catch anyone’s attention. Daring and creative when it came to pranks, but not daring enough to get caught and put on the professors’ radar. 

 

Remus knew how to stay hidden without anyone noticing he was hidden. He hoped that Harry never had to learn that skill, and that the boy would be allowed to live the way his father had: free and full of joy. 

 

“I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you once you go off to Hogwarts, then,” Hope said. Harry must have given her a confused look, because she continued with, “it’s where Remus and your mum and dad went to school. Not really my style, but I’m sure you’ll fit in well there.”

 

“Why?” Harry asked. 

 

“Well, your mum and dad both did magic, and even though they aren’t here, Remus is, and he’s always been quite the teacher.”

 

“ _ Mum, _ ” Remus said. He poked his head around the corner, frowning. “I’m not a teacher.”

 

“You could be,” she said, and shrugged. “How’s dinner coming along? Harry’s starting to drift.”

 

“Almost done,” Remus said. Indeed, Harry had started flying closer to the floor, with his toes dragging against the carpet as he circled the coffee table. He was hungry, and trying not to show it. Remus straightened up. “The two of you could set the table, if you’re up to it?”

 

“How’s that sound, Harry love?” Hope asked. She reached out to still him, and Harry dropped down onto his feet. His hands were still wrapped around the broom, and he looked contemplative about the whole ordeal. Eventually, he nodded, and handed his broom back over to Hope. She kissed the top of his head. “Remus’ll help you out while I put your broom away. I’ll be right there with you in a mo’.”

 

Harry nodded and toddled over to the kitchen. He was allowed to put out the forks and the spoons, but Hope and Remus had both agreed to keep Harry away from the knives for now. He was still two, and prone to grabbing things without thinking about how painful they could be. 

 

Harry set out the forks and spoons, and once he was done, he grabbed his own fork and walked over to stand beside Remus while he portioned out dinner. He held the fork in both his hands and looked up at Remus, and Remus knew that, somehow, he’d managed to parent James and Lily’s kid and not fuck him up entirely.

 

* * *

 

June’s twin boys turned four in March. She invited Remus, Hope, and Harry over for the party, and Remus spent most of the morning chasing Harry around the house. Hope had her job, but she’d promised to take a long lunch break so that she could swing by and relieve Remus of parent duty for an hour. 

 

Hope and Remus had both learned that most parents frowned upon swearing in front of their children. Hope and Remus, unfortunately, rarely realised they were swearing until Harry was repeating it whenever he dropped one of his Legos. 

 

Remus kicked a said Lego while in pursuit of Harry, who had decided that he didn’t need a bath and that he could go to the party in his pajamas and no one would mind. “Shit--”

 

“Shit!” Harry said back, from where he was halfway up the stairs. 

 

Remus’ eyes widened. “Harry, don’t say that.”

 

“You said first,” Harry said. 

 

“That’s a fair argument, but I’m older than you,” Remus said. He’d never been able to play that card with the Marauders. All three of them had been born before Remus, and had held that over his head throughout their lives. This, of course, was a completely different situation, but Remus was pretty sure he could hear James laughing at him from the afterlife for using the line on his son. 

 

“Shit!” Harry said again, grinning this time. 

 

Remus shook his head. “Alright, be difficult. I’ll just have to tell mum about it later.”

 

“No,” Harry said, his eyes going wide. 

 

Remus smiled and stuck his hand out. “So, do we have a deal? Neither of us say that word, and neither of us tell mum about it.”

 

“Okay,” Harry said. He took Remus’ hand in both of his. His hands were still so small, and his nails were long and dug into Remus’ knuckles. He didn’t mind. He knew Harry wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. He was a gentle kid. He cried when bugs came in the house and Hope went after them with a shoe instead of a mug and paper towel. 

 

“Let’s get you bathed,” Remus said. He reached forward and picked Harry up while Harry was still distracted by their deal. Maybe it was rude, but Harry was two and if Remus had to trick him into taking a bath, well, it definitely wasn’t the worst thing he’d done. 

 

An hour later, Remus was a little damp, but both of them were ready to go out. Harry was dressed in a green sweater and dark blue jeans, and Remus had thrown on a soft grey sweater of his own. It wasn’t raining, which was a miracle in of itself. 

 

June’s house was only a few streets away. Harry and Remus walked, with Harry holding onto Remus’ hand and Remus pulling him back in when he tried to explore the other side of the street. It smelled like rain, and Remus breathed it all in. He’d missed Wales, during the war, and it was days like this where he was glad to have survived it all. He didn’t think he was the best parent, and he still wished that he could have changed things so that James and Lily had made it through to raise their son on their own, but things were okay now. 

 

Harry was growing up. Remus was figuring out how to be a muggle and an adult and a father, all at once. Hope was holding the two of them together, even though she and Remus had both agreed not to admit it to each other. The three of them were a family, and Remus hoped that would be enough for James, wherever he was.

 

“Remus!” June’s voice called out. Remus and Harry had gotten to the house without Remus realising it, and he’d almost walked them right past it.

 

Remus waved his free hand in greeting. “June, you look lovely. Are the boys out back?”

 

June nodded. Remus let go of Harry so that he could storm through the house and out through the back garden. Harry remembered to wipe his shoes on the mat before going into the house, and it made Remus feel like he’d accomplished something. 

 

June closed the door behind him and smiled. “He’s getting big. Have you thought about school?”

 

Remus let out a laugh. “He’s two. I think it’s a bit early for that.”

 

“Preschool, not primary,” June said, shaking her head. She motioned for Remus to head through to the back garden, and he followed her through the house. They paused in the kitchen, where June prepared two cups of tea, and then headed outside again. June sat down in one of the little metal chairs and crossed her legs. “There’s one in town--I’ve been sending the boys there for a few months now--and it’s rather good.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Remus said. He sipped from his tea and watched Harry race across the yard with a toy truck in his hand. He knew that he’d have to send Harry off to school eventually, but he didn’t want to let go of the kid just yet.

 

* * *

 

“Should we start sending him to preschool?” Remus asked. 

 

It was a surprisingly warm day at the end of August, and Wales was sunny for the first time in weeks. The three of them had taken a day trip to the beach, although Harry was the only one in real swimming gear. Hope had a suit on under her sundress, but she and Remus had both agreed beforehand that they were both willing to get their clothes soaked if Harry got too far into the water.

 

Hope looked up at him. “Who gave you that idea?”

 

“Oh,” Remus said, “I remembered a conversation I had with June a few months ago, about her own kids and preschool and how it was really helping them.”

 

“You and June have been spending a lot of time together,” Hope said. 

 

Remus shook his head. “I’m not interested. You know that.”

 

“Yes, but  _ she _ doesn’t.”

 

Hope had a point. Remus was about as closed off with his sexuality as he was with his lycanthropy. It was for the same reason: both wizards and Muggles didn’t take well to people who were different. He’d been lucky at Hogwarts to befriend the three people who didn’t give a shit, but Hogwarts and the war were over and Remus was back in Wales. And in Wales, people expected men to like women and to not turn into monsters every full moon. 

 

Remus sighed. “I don’t think she’s interested, mum. She would have said something by now if she was.”

 

Hope let out a laugh. Harry looked up from where he’d been piling sand together to make a castle. She handed him a little shovel before leaning back to face her son. “Remus, not every woman is going to be as forward as I am. Or as forward as Lily was, for that matter.”

 

“I know,” Remus said. “But I also don’t want to offend her, if she is just being friendly.”

 

“It’s your choice,” Hope said, which was her way of telling Remus that she didn’t agree with him but wasn’t going to push him any further.

 

Remus pulled his legs up to his chest. He’d been out of the war and out of his grief long enough now. Maybe it was time he started looking for someone for himself. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but things were starting to change. There were bars now, and clubs for people like him. 

 

He swallowed. “Maybe I should start dating.”

 

“That’s one way to throw her off,” Hope said. “Show up with a man and she’ll definitely get the hint that you’re not interested in her.”

 

“Christ, mum, not like that,” Remus said. His face was hot, and it wasn’t from the sun. “I meant… I meant that I’m tired of being alone. I’m twenty-three. A boyfriend would be nice.”

 

“I’ll keep a lookout for you,” Hope said. “And if you want to take a trip to London, let me know and I’ll take over parenting duty for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting to Sirius, don't worry. 
> 
> Also, I'm ass-deep in final papers (four of my five classes this semester have one), so this will probably be the only update until mid/late May. Sorry in advance, but I've also been dealing with personal life shit as well, and haven't been up to writing. 
> 
> That being said, here's the next chapter!

Dating was not easy. Remus hadn’t expected it to be. He’d never had a proper boyfriend, but he was experienced enough to not make a fool of himself. He hadn’t been the only gay kid at school, and had snogged a few boys during his fifth and sixth years. He’d been too busy with N.E.W.T.s and preparing for the real world during his seventh to do much else. 

 

Unfortunately, most of the men his age were interested in hooking up and not much else. And none of them wanted to deal with a toddler, or move out to Wales. 

 

“You’re doing better than I was when I was your age,” Hope said one morning over breakfast. Harry was packing his rucksack, excited for his day at preschool. (Remus and Hope had decided to enrol him for the half-day program). 

 

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Weren’t you already married when you were my age?”

 

“No, I was finishing up at uni,” she said. “I had you during my last semester, and told your dad that he wasn’t going to get out of parenthood just because I’d decided to put education before marriage.”

 

“You were something else,” Remus said. He knew some of the details behind his parents’ relationship. They’d met during Hope’s first year, while Lyall had been interning in the ministry and she’d been in London for school. They’d dated off and on during those years, and had only gotten serious at the end, when Lyall got Hope pregnant and had tried to marry her immediately. Hope had decided to wait until she had her degree (English) under her belt, and they’d gotten married two months after she finished. 

 

Remus had been about five months old at the time, and the wedding had been small and not in a church, to make things easier. Hope had been the black sheep of her family, but she wore the title well. 

 

Much like Sirius had, up until he’d turned traitor. Remus ignored the mixed emotions that washed over him when he thought about his ex-friend. He still thought about him, sometimes, but he never mentioned it to his mum. He didn’t know how to broach the subject of his fading feelings for the man, or how the betrayal still felt like a curse out of nowhere, so he kept it to himself. 

 

He kept a lot of things to himself, come to think of it. Remus had promised to be more open with his mum, now that the war was over, but some habits were harder to break than others. Remus had spent his whole life hiding parts of himself from people. His werewolf self from his friends and peers, and then his sexuality once the whole werewolf thing came to light. His affiliation with Dumbledore from the other werewolves, so that they might come around and trust the Order over Voldemort. And of course, he’d kept the details of the war from his mum, to protect her.

 

It had worked, but now Remus felt as though he were made up of puzzle pieces, none of them really fitting the others. There was no war or espionage left for him to live through. He was as good as a Muggle, now, but he still had to keep parts of himself locked up. 

 

Remus rubbed his face. “Christ. How the hell did you do it?”

 

“Dating? Parenthood?” Hope asked, listing the options off on her fingers. 

 

“Being so… so bloody different from what the world expects of you,” Remus said. He had no other way of spelling it out, and it was about as honest as he could get with his mum without giving everything away. She knew he’d had feelings for Sirius in school, but she didn’t know that they still lingered in the back of his mind. She didn't know know that he still thought about all the what ifs of that friendship. 

 

“It’s not as easy as I make it look, love,” she said. She reached over and put her hand over his. Her hands were worn from years of working, of carting books and taking splinters and papercuts. They were nothing in comparison to his, though. Remus’ fingers were crooked from countless transformations where he’d broken and re-healed them overnight. 

 

Hope squeezed his hand, careful of his knuckles. “But you have to remember that, on some level, we’re all outcasts. No one comes into this world knowing how they fit into the bigger picture, and no one is going to blame you for not knowing. You’re twenty-three, you’re barely an adult. It’s okay to feel like the world is a whirlwind.”

 

“You’re right,” he said. He looked over to the kitchen, where they’d started putting up pictures of Harry alongside the art he’d been making. Harry hadn’t asked about his parents yet, or why he looked so different from Remus and Hope, but both of the adults knew that the caretakers would have questions. 

 

“What else is on your mind?” Hope asked. “I know there’s more in there than you’re telling me. There always is.”

 

“We should tell Harry,” Remus said. 

 

“About his parents?”

 

“Yes,” Remus said. “I think he’s old enough to know. Not everything, of course, but… but that they died in a war, and that they loved him, and that he’s special. Like us.”

 

“Like you more than me,” Hope said. She let out a sigh. “He’s going to start showing magic soon, isn’t he? You started showing signs around four.”

 

“He’s three.”

 

“Well, he’s also the son of two brilliant wizards,” Hope said. She smiled and winked at him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a prodigy himself.”

 

“If he is, we should definitely start explaining things to him,” Remus said. Hope nodded in agreement, and they turned the discussion into what details they would give the boy. He was old enough to understand some of what death was (he’d asked about the cemetery behind the local church, and what it meant), and he knew that most of his school friends had a mum and a dad. 

 

Remus wondered if he’d one day have to explain the gay thing to Harry as well, or if Harry would grow up assuming his adopted father was single the same way that his adopted grandmother was. Hope didn’t date because she’d decided that it wasn’t worth it, and that she was happier doing things on her own terms and not having to worry about pleasing a husband. Remus, however, very much wanted some kind of companionship, but had no way of getting it in a meaningful way. 

 

The rest of the day went by slowly. Remus was in charge of picking Harry up from school that day, as Hope had to go into town to get some errands done. Both of them could drive, but Hope was better at it, and Remus preferred walking anyway. He missed the tube in London, and not having to wait around in traffic. Everything else about London, he could live without, but the mass transportation was a plus that Wales couldn’t give him. 

 

Remus waited until Hope pulled out of the driveway to collect his things. He grabbed his wand, wallet, and a light jacket, knowing that September weather in Wales could be unpredictable. It hadn’t gotten too dreary yet, but Remus knew it was coming. Rain and cold were fine on their own, but they were disgusting when thrown together at the same time. 

 

It was about a fifteen minute walk from his mum’s house to where the preschool was located. It was based out of the church (the same one with the cemetary out back that Harry had asked about before), and was for anyone within driving distance in the town. According to Hope, Remus had once gone there as a small child, but he had no memory of it. 

 

His mum had been a practicing Catholic up until Remus was bitten. Remus tried not to blame himself for her faltering fate, but it was hard sometimes. She said she’d left the church for other reasons, including how it treated women and how it looked down on gay people, but Remus couldn’t disconnect his mum leaving from his own lycanthropy. 

 

The church itself was small, with one wing for the mass services and the other for the preschool services. As he approached, he could see some children running around in front of the preschool building. Harry wasn’t one of them; they looked older than Harry and closer to primary school age. They were all boys, and one of them was trying to climb up into a tree. Remus bit the inside of his cheek, not sure if he needed to intervene to keep the kids from getting themselves hurt. 

 

He’d never been much of an adventuresome child, even before he got bitten. He had preferred sitting back and observing as his classmates ran around and got themselves in trouble. He’d missed it all, once he’d been bitten and been pulled out of the preschool and out of all the other social events in his young life. 

 

Hope had homeschooled him up until she divorced his father. That year, the one between the divorce and Remus going off to Hogwarts, had been particularly stressful. The two of them had decided to use vague illnesses to explain why Remus kept missing days, and to keep to themselves until they got the letter from Hogwarts, securing Remus’ future as a wizard. He knew people had asked questions, but he’ d never bothered to ask his mum about how she’d answered them all when he was away. 

 

Remus breathed out in relief as an older woman came out of the building and admonished the boys for being careless. The three of them hung their heads and were herded back inside. Remus walked up after them, grabbing the door before it could close fully.

 

He stepped inside and offered the teacher a smile. “Hello, I’m here for Harry?”

 

“You’re his dad?” the teacher asked, cocking her head to the side in confusion. 

 

“I’m… yes,” Remus said, instead of explaining Harry’s parentage. He’d come out with it eventually, but for now this woman didn’t know that Harry had been an orphan for longer than he’d had living parents. Remus rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s my adopted son, that’s why we don’t look alike.”

 

“Oh, that makes sense,” the teacher said. She walked over to a table and grabbed a clipboard, flipping through the papers. “What’s your name? I need to check and make sure you’re listed on here before I can let the two of you go.”

 

“Remus Lupin,” he said. 

 

The teacher nodded, and turned over a page. Her eyes flicked back and forth until she found his name, listed above his mum’s and below Harry’s on the class list. None of them had the same surname. Remus had considered changing his to Potter, or taking his mum’s, so that things would be less confusing, but Hope had talked him out of it. She figured that, if people couldn’t understand, then that was their problem and not hers, Remus’, or Harry’s. 

 

And besides, Harry deserved to keep his parents’ name. It was one of the only things he had left of them, after everything that had happened. 

 

“I see you,” the teacher said after a moment. She smiled at him. “Give me a moment, I’ll go fetch Harry from the back.”

 

“Thank you,” Remus said, nodding at her as she turned and headed to the classroom. He stayed behind, not sure what to do with himself while he waited. This was his first time coming to pick Harry up (Hope usually got him on her way back from her job), and he felt out of place. 

 

He didn’t get too long to contemplate things, as Harry and the teacher soon returned. Harry was gripping a painting in one hand and his satchel in the other, and he broke into a wide grin when he saw that Remus was there. He pulled away from his teacher and raced over, swinging his arms out to wrap them around Remus’ knees. “Remus! We did paint today1”

 

“Really?” Remus asked, not able to hide the smile forming on his own face. Harry brought out the best of him. The warmest parts, that had been shoved down during the war, always came back out when Harry was around. “What did you paint?”

 

“You and Mum!” Harry grinned. He turned the painting up so that Remus could see two human-esque blobs with bright yellow hair. Clearly they were supposed to be him and his mum, and not him and Lily, who was Harry’s actual mum. 

 

Remus patted Harry’s head. “It looks lovely.”

 

“He’s quite the artist,” Harry’s teacher said. She seemed genuine, but Remus could never tell with adults. It was as though they were afraid to say anything negative about a child to their parents, for fear that the parent would take it personally. Remus had learned that himself, not long ago, and had added being false positive to one of the things he had to do to keep people from being pissed off at him for no reason.

 

He thanked Harry’s teacher, and then took Harry’s satchel so that the two of them could hold hands as they walked back home. Harry talked about his day as they walked, occasionally pausing to point out a spare flower or interesting looking tree branch. 

 

Remus took it as a good sign that Harry was so interested in the world around him. It was better than him being closed off and being worried or sad because he’d never be able to know his parents. 

 

Remus wished things were different, of course. He would never steal Harry away from his real parents, not in a million years, but he was glad that they’d turned into a family of their own. They were two boys between worlds, and they’d been brought together through tragedy. It was bittersweet, but the longer Remus had Harry, the more his life felt sweet instead of bitter. 

 

Harry let out a gasp of surprise. Remus looked up, following Harry’s gaze to the end of his driveway, where a man in flowing, sea green robes and a majestic beard was waiting. 

 

Remus swallowed. Dumbledore. He squeezed Harry’s hand and approached the wizard. “Prof--Dumbledore. I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here.”

 

“Hello, Remus, Harry,” Dumbledore said, nodding his head to the small child who was now looking up at him with wonder written all over his face. He looked at Remus over his signature half moon glasses. “Do you have a moment, Remus? I’d like to talk to you about Mr. Potter’s care.”

 

It was a rhetorical question, of course. Remus nodded anyway, because he knew better than to break the scene, and motioned for Dumbledore to head up to the house. 

 

He felt a wave of nerves cascade over him. Over the past few years, he’d thought about Harry’s future as a wizard, but he’d never once thought about Dumbledore, or how Dumbledore had seemed to drop into the background the moment Remus and Harry retreated to Wales. 

 

He regretted that lapse of judgement now. Dumbledore was about to walk into Remus’ mum’s home, and he had no idea what to expect from it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed, and hopefully 2019 will be the year where I figure out how to have a regular uploading schedule!!


End file.
